Love in a Death Camp
by Southslash
Summary: Stan Marsh is a young gay man imprisoned in a concentration camp during ww2. Kyle Broflovski is a young new arrival of the Jewish faith. Sparks fly from first sight but could a relationship really flourish in such adverse conditions? Stan/Kyle
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own the Characters of Stan Or Kyle those belong to Comedy Central. I make no profit off this fic. It is soley for entertainment purposes. **

**Warning:**** This fic deals with the very sensitive issue of the Holocaust. While I have tried to stick as close to the facts as possible not everything will be 100 percent accurate. This is a fictional story. This story does not express the opions of anybody and any similarities to persons live or dead are completely accidental. **

**Summary:**** Stan Marsh is a young gay man imprisoned in a concentration camp during ww2. Kyle Broflovski is a young new arrival of the Jewish faith. Sparks fly from first sight but conditions are far from ideal. Could a relationship really flourish in such adverse conditions? Will Stan risk his life to save someone who seems almost certain to die?**

**Love In a Death Camp**

I try to wipe the ashes from my shoes as I walk from the graves I have been digging since sunup. I hate ash, it smells like burnt flesh and human suffering ,something you never get used to.

I walk by a guard and he gives me a dirty look. No surprise their Then again everyone gives me dirty looks.

It amazes me the prejudice that can take place even among prisoners at a concentration camp. Iv been treated lower than dirt by guard and prisoner alike since the day I got here. My pink triangle a badge of shame is even worse than the golden star of the Jew . My crime loving another man. I get the worst jobs and get kicked around the most. Although I suppose it isn't all bad its made me stronger in a way. It also allows me to distance myself from the other prisoners which I learned long ago that one must do to survive. Being called all sorts of names and getting kicked around allows me not to get to emotional when someone I know eventually ends up in one of my holes. Its rule number one on a long list of survival rules I have created. Never get close to anyone. Being close to someone in hear is a weakness and the Nazis will exploit any weakness they can. I feel a small victory every time one of the guards tosses someone I know into one of my holes and just waits their expecting me to break down or cry or something. When I don't the look of discontent is just priceless.

I stop and lean up against one of the outward facing walls of a barrack. A few hundred yards away is the train depot where the poor bastards come in every Tuesday night. For some it will be the last of the outside world they'll ever see. Sometimes I like to watch. Try to pick out the survivors and pick out which one will die tonight. It keeps me occupied and keeps my mind of my own situation. I try not think about how completely demented and sick it is. But I guess everyone here is a little sick, lost a little bit of their humanity just to survive. Im not the only one. Sometimes others join me. Sometimes there are even bets of who will last the longest, who's likely to die tonight, in the next week, month. We bet any little scraps we can get our hands on. I always pay up when I loose but sometimes I have trouble collecting myself when I win, again the pink triangle. Just one of the facts of life I guess.

I hear footsteps and jump up just incase. This area is strictly off limits and any prisoner caught back here would be severely punished. I tense up and am extremely relieved when its just Fritz another prisoner. He smiles at takes a seat next to me. Out of all the prisoners Fritz probably gives me the least crap about my situation. He's okay still im able to keep my distance emotionally. We sit their not saying much and at 9:00 PM sharp the train pulls into the station. The Nazis may be murderous maniacs but when it comes to time they are efficient up to the last minute. We watch as the soldiers open the doors and people begin flooding out. Nothing really special, some older people and children, scared mothers and fathers none of them survivable material. In all likeliness thell all be dead within a week. I look at Fritz's face and the boredom that resonates their tell's me he's thinking the same thing. Nothing special among this lot. Im about to get up and go salvage what little sleep I can before I have to be up for grave duty in the morning when one boy catches my attention.

The resemblance is unbelievable. He can't be more than 20 years old. About average height and very thin with curly red hair and a rounded face. But it's the suddle features that I can just make out from here and something else I can't quite put my finger on. Fear, the look of complete and udder fear. And right there against the barrack wall I have a flashback of my boyfriend.

_Its early spring just after 9:00 pm as I walk in the door. Jacob greets me the smell of some divine soup on him. How he manages to feed us on such scraps ill never know. Its been hard for us ever since my parents found out and cut my ties to the family business. Im not nearly talented enoph to pull in enoph money without the type of connections my father can provide. We've been getting by on less than the bear minimum and it kills me not being able to provide for him. He's had to do a few "odd jobs" every once in a while to make up the difference. I asked him about that once but he refused to talk about it. The more I think about it the more I realize I don't want to know. He sees the look on my face and jumps up to hug me. I look into those big green eyes and they say it all. He loves me and he doesn't care about the money. I squeeze him tighter. He yelps making me laugh which brings a smile to his face._

_We eat the soup he has prepared as he talks about his day. Trading items in the market to get the little bit of meat. Talking with the other families who are struggling like us. He doesn't mention my job or ask about my day as he used to and I'm glad. He brings up that another Jewish family got picked up this week and I can see the look of fear in his eyes. I take his hand on the table and hold it tight. I remind him that our friends are loyal and both our parents claim us as dead trying to quell his fears. He moves on but I can tell he is still tense. I know there is only one thing that can calm his fear down. As he is doing the dinner dishes I lay a blanket down on the floor and undress preparing for something special._

_Its almost 3 Am when I hear the sound of a door being busted in upstairs. At first I think its nothing. There are several Jewish families hiding out in this building as well. I assume the soldiers have found one of them out. I turn to Jacob naked and in my arms. His curly red hair a mess. I run my fingers through his thick curls and smile .I love his hair. As im running my fingers through his curls a soldier kicks in the door. Jacob wakes in a fright a throw my arm over him protectively. The soldiers separate us and slam me to the ground. I can hear the sound of Jacobs sobs as he pleads for our lives insisting we've done nothing wrong. At this point I can see its pointless to deny it. They have all the evidence they need to kill us on the spot if they desire to. My only hope at this point is that we end up in a work camp where we at least have a chance of surviving. The soldiers kick us around for a while taking advantage of our naked state. I hear Jacobs sobs getting louder and louder and I really wish someone would just shoot me already and get it over with. Suddenly I am yanked up by my wrist cuffs and tuned to face my boyfriend. He naked as on his knees sobbing. His head is down and his back is facing the sergeant . A soldier grabs my head and forces me to watch as the sergeant draws his pistol puts a bullet in Jacob's skull._

I jolt back to reality as Fritz is laughing at me pointing out the boy that im staring at.

"You gotta be kidding me Marsh. That scared wimp won't last a week. Ill put all my bread scraps on it!"

He's right of course but as I stare at him I get this raw urge to help him. Its something I desperately need. I have to reprimand myself, remind myself where I am and that befriending anyone let alone someone who is surely to die is detrimental to my own survival.

Within a moment's notice I am on my feet ready to leave. Fritz gives me a look that I just shrug off. I have to get out of here. If I stare at that kid with the curly red hair one more second I might do something irrational and stupid. Like decide to help him. What I need is a couple hours shuteye and a good long work detail to knock some sense into me.

I try to settle into my bunk and salvage what little sleep I have left but whenever I close my eyes I see a mix of the kid from the train and my dead boyfriend. The resemblance really is amazing, the features, the curly red hair, the look of fear. If I hadn't seen him die myself I would actually think it was him. "_But its not him!_" I remind myself. Its not him and if I want to keep surviving its best I just mind my own business.


	2. Chapter 2

** Love in a Death Camp**

** Chapter 2**

** (Kyle Broflovski)**

I'm huddled in a corner, my curly red hair a mess when I hear the train starts to slow down. We could be making another fuel stop, or another passenger pick up, but I doubt it. People are starting to stir and most of us are just ready to get out of here after being packed in shoulder to shoulder for over three days. I'm not sure which prospect scares me more: staying on the train or getting off. The Nazis tell us they are just work camps. That we will be able to earn our freedom, but we have all heard the stories. People starving to death, gassed, burned alive in ovens. I try not to think about it but the horrible images come to mind anyway. I'd probably start crying again but I don't think there's enough water in my body to produce tears. Plus, several people on the train have already threatened violence if I didn't shut up. I look around the train and see children, five to ten years old, much more composed and together than myself. Suddenly, I feel a lot smaller than my twenty years. I see a child that reminds me of Ike and I feel ashamed of myself. I haven't thought about him or my mother since we were separated at the train depot. I've been too occupied fearing for my own life. I think about that day, the soldiers tearing us apart, Ike screaming my name and weeping with my mother.

"Some man I've become," I say, hanging my head.

I think about my father. Would he be disappointed in me? Probably. He would have expected me to fight and die if necessary to protect my mother and brother, like he did. But I just don't feel ready for that yet. I know it's selfish- There are men younger than me that have risen to the challenge but all I've wanted to do since this began was crawl up in my mother's arms like I used to when I was little. I think of warm arms around me and smile. Suddenly, someone else comes to mind: John, an American exchange student. We had met in early in secondary school and developed a relationship that would go on for years. We tried to play it off as a friendship at first but it grew beyond that routine very quickly. I think about his big thick arms, holding my naked body under the covers, promising to protect me. I felt so safe in those arms. I think about him a lot, and now that America has gotten involved in the war I pray for his safety. I wonder if we will ever see each other again? I had so longed for a companion like him, someone who could understand these strange feelings I had for other men. Now that he's gone, I fear I'll never meet anyone like him again. The train comes to a stop and a second later the doors open, soldiers tossing people onto the platform.

As soon as I'm pulled off the train I smell it: The unmistakable smell of burning flesh. It permeates everything in the vicinity and suddenly I'm back to fearing for my own survival. I'm pushed forward on legs that feel like Jello, paralyzed with fear. We walk past a team of doctors who bark orders at us, separating us into two lines going in separate directions. I've heard about this, people being sent to either hard labor or death. I keep my head down not wanting to catch a glimpse of which fate I'm headed for. A machine gun rings out and a woman in her mid twenties lays dead. A boy stops and stands over her sobbing. A soldier kicks him hard and pushes him back into line moving us along.

We reach a bleak looking building with no windows and are led inside. A soldier appears and orders us to undress. Telling us we must have a shower. My heart drops at the words. I've heard about the "showers." Nothing but a trick to get everyone together to be efficiently gassed to death. I take a look around. These are the people I will spend my last moments on earth with. We all undress quickly and wait for the end. It seems that most of the adults are aware of what is about to happen although they are trying to keep it together for the children's sake. I try my hardest not to cry but a few tears escape me anyway. I look up at the shower heads waiting for the poisonous gas that will end my life. I think of Ike and mother. Will they suffer the same fate? Maybe we'll all be together once again. Dad will be waiting to greet us. Taking me into his arms. I hear something rumbling through the pipes and I prepare myself for my death. I say a few words and wait.

When its water and not gas that comes out of the shower I fall to the ground on my knees weeping and thanking God. The cold water that falls on my back seems like the greatest feeling in the world. I look around and most of the adults in the room are in shock. A few of them look like they are considering joining me. A group of small kids are giggling and splashing around under the water. For the first time in god knows how long I smile. I quickly rinse myself off and as quick as the shower begun, it's over. We are marched naked from one building to another the cold night air biting at my body. Still dripping wet we are told to wait here for the barber. Suddenly I become very aware of my nakedness. I try to convince myself how silly it is to be embarrassed by my nudity in this situation but apparently I still have some modesty left. It takes what seems like hours for the barber to get through all of us and we stand their naked and wet the whole time. When it's my turn, a soldier yanks me across the room and pulls my hands from my crotch. The barber lobs off every last inch of my red curls leaving my head bald. I run my fingers over the strange smooth texture. He runs the razor over my crotch taking off the rest of my red hair and a few areas of skin as well. I hobble away the area between my legs sore from the sharp burn of the razor.

I'm thrown some thin clothes and ordered to dress quickly and stand in yet another line. I study the clothes, a standard pinstripe uniform with the Star of David sewn on the front. It's awfully thin and I'm wondering how effective it will be in the cold. By the time I'm at the front of the line, I can see they are tattooing numbers on people's arms. _Like branding a cattle,_ I think. When it's my turn the needle sewing ink into my flesh I try not to cry despite the pain. When it's over I look at the number on my arm: 00275.

When we are finally all processed through we are lined up at the front of the camp. An impressively dressed officer steps out of an administrative building to "greet" us. He gives the same Nazi spiel about working hard to earn our freedom although I don't think anyone believes that anymore. He continues about how cooperation will be rewarded and disobedience punished and explains to us the basic routine throwing in that escape or revolt is futile and foolish. Finally we are allowed to break up and head for the dining hall for our first meal in days. On our first walk through the camp we see them; The current prizoners who have been here for various amounts of time and are in different stages of emaciation. The worst of them look like walking skeletons. You can almost pinpoint how long they've been here by their state of malnourishment. Suddenly I smell the burning flesh in the air again and my hopes of getting out of this alive sink even lower. _Will this be my fate?_ I think to myself, _Slowly starving to death with everybody else? _Maybe it would have been better to die in the gas chamber.

When we reach the dining hall, an old shack of a building with wooden benches and tables, the people inside look no better. I keep my eyes down on the floor not wanting to see the poor starving souls I am destined to be one of. When we receive our rations it only confirms the horror stories that I could have only hope where rumors. Potato soup which seems to be mostly water and a thin piece of bread. Definitely not enough calories to sustain the human body for long. I look around the room for a place to sit where I don't have to stare at a walking skeleton. Suddenly my eyes spot a boy my own age. At least I think he is. It's kind of hard to tell. He's cute with a round face and strong features. It's strange though he doesn't appear to be Jewish. Maybe Polish? Or a political prisoner, perhaps. As soon as he sees me looking at him his eyes dart down. Was he staring at me too? He's somewhat undernourished but not as badly as most of the people here. In fact, he's still somewhat more bulky than me. Which isn't saying much. When I approach him I notice he's sitting alone, which is kind of strange. When I reach the table I sit down without introducing myself. It just feels wrong somehow in this situation. I expect him to say something but he just grunts and stares down at his soup as if there is something fascinating in there. He's pretty handsome despite the malnourishment and a few scars. For a moment my mind goes to dirty places before I remember where I am. I smile at him without getting a response. I guess I can't really trust any of my own senses anymore but I could almost swear that I'm getting a vibe from him. It's a nervous one, but it's there and he must feel it to because his head comes up and his eyes meet mine. There is a desperate look in them that says 'Go away, please. I can't afford to get attached to you.' I look down and notice it's not a Jewish star on his shirt, but a pink triangle. He's a homosexual, and despite his desperate attempts not to, he cares about me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Love in a Death Camp (Beta Reader: Kylelover101)**

**Chapter 3**

**(Stan Marsh)**

I wake up when I hear the guard crashing through the front door of the barracks. Actually I don't think wake up is the proper word. I'm not even sure I fell asleep last night. Images of both my dead boyfriend and the boy from the train flashed before my eyes. Those of us who have been here a long time, are up and outside for morning role call in 30 seconds. (It's best not to keep the guards waiting) A few newcomers straggle behind and they will be sorry. When they finally get outside the guard grabs them and pulls them to the front of the line. He has them strip naked and kneel down. The Nazi proceeds to kick their faces into the dirt. I look at the broken faces of the sorry souls. Well at least the heats off me for a little while. Being the rag for this camp whenever the guards are out of new recruits to torture they come to me. Lets just say iv had my face kicked into the ground more than a few times.

I've come to hate mealtime. At least when I eat nothing my stomach understands. But its almost like they've engineered meals to be insufficanint, my stomach will naw away painfully all day.

I yawn from the lack of sleep knowing fully well I'm dead on my feet. It's on days like today I miss the simple luxuries I used to take for granted. Like a nice warm cup of coffee. I look up from my soup as I hear the doors open. The new arrivals come poring in. I study them as they walk through the door, scared shitless, as they should be. Most of them wont last through the month being worked to death, starved to death, killed by the guards... I've seen it all.

The redheaded boy from last night comes walking in, cringing with his head down. I try to look away but I can't help myself. I study him as he gets his food and my fears are confirmed: a weakling destined to die. He can only become dead weight if my heart forces me to take him under my wing. He's looking around for a place to sit. I'm thinking probably with someone who looks like they won't drop dead in a second. His eyes catch mine for just a moment and I immediately stare down at my soup. "Did he se me?" I think. I take a peek up for just a second. "Damn!" I mutter under my breath as he walks towards my table. He takes a seat without saying much. I can see he's nervous probably at a loss for words. Complete and utter fear in his eyes. I study him, flicking my eyes up for half a second at a time while he's eating. I begin to cry. He looks exactly like Jacob in every way. His facial features, his red hair that's been shaved off, even the frightened look on his face. Out of all the horrible things that have happened to me here, being in the presence of this boy is the most painful. I want to throw my arms over him and protect him from the horrors that await. However I know that doing so would be committing suicide.

I raise my head my tear filled eyes staring into his as I try to convey my message _'Go away, please. I can't afford to get attached to you_.' But he doesn't do anything, just sits there, nervously staring up at me every once in a while. His eyes dart down to the pink triangle on my shirt and for a second I'm never happier to be wearing it. It's the one thing that seems to repulse everyone I come across in this god forsaken place and for once it can help me repulsing someone I might otherwise be compelled to risk my life for.

I wait for it. The shriek of disgust, the banging of fists on the table, the storming away from me that is bound to take place. But it doesn't happen and his eyes come back up to mine more hopeful than ever. My mouth hangs open in shock. A one in a million shot that I'd meet another homosexual like me. My heart melts and I know there is no way I could ever watch this delicate flower in pain without at least trying to help. One way or another im going to end up dying for this kid.

Its been about a week since the redheaded kid arrived in camp. Irony, which seems to love me these days made sure that he was assigned to my barracks two bunks up from me infact. Although I have to admit I might have underestimated him, he's done a halfway decent job of taking care of himself (which has negated any need for me to step in and risk my own life). He smiles at my sweetly every now and then. I'm a little more friendlier than I was when I first met him and try to flash a smile that conveys friendship.

Were outside for morning role, when the _**Blockestate**_ comes marching over. Its usually the sergeants who take count and when a higher ranking officer appears, it usually means that something happened. The _**Blockestate**_ is a giant of a man, who wears a menacing black uniform. He's come to inform us that contraband food was found in the barracks. He asks us to identify the person and when no one comes forward he tells us the consequences of harboring a criminal. Still no one comes forward and the _**Blockestate**_ screams YOU! The redheaded boy from the train is pulled out in front of the barracks. As they are dragging him up in front of everyone I can see his eyes full of fear, (which oddly enough pulls at my heart) my heart acts before my brain.

"**IT WAS ME**!" I shout.

There is a gasp from the crowd as I make the admission. I clasp my hand over my mouth but its already too late. I can see the _**Blockestate**_ looking over satisfied. I get the feeling even he knows I'm lying but he despises me along with everyone else and will surely take the opportunity to punish me.

The guard approaches me and proceeds to punch me in the gut than drag my writhing body in front of the barracks. As I look at the people I have come too know I wonder if this will be the end. Shot for a crime I didn't commit for a boy who's name I don't even know. I knew that boy would be the death of me. The guards strip me of my clothes and knees me in the crotch. I fall over and they take their turns kicking and spitting on me. Insulting me, cursing me..._let it all come to me, don't hurt that boy_... After their done they leave me riving in pain on the ground and announce that as punishment I will be required to perform extra work duties and my rations will be cut in half. When I look back up at the crowd most of them are in the process of dispersing however there is one redhead Jew who is staring at me in disbelief and tearing up.

When I get back to the barracks im dead on my feet. My extra work duty has caused me to miss my meager dinner meal however I'm so tired I don't really care. I flop down and almost immediately fall asleep on the hard wooden bunk.

At around three in the morning, I feel myself being shaken awake. I open my eyes and there is just enoph moonlight for me to see it's the red haired kid. He has a serious look in eyes and I can tell he wants to say something to me probably about what happened today. He's just about to talk and I have to clasp my hand over his mouth as I jump out of bed. Its not safe to talk about such things in the barracks. Even among us there are inmates who spy for the Nazis' in exchange for food and other favors. I put my finger to my lips as I lead him across the barracks and he seems to understand. I swing open the loose board and we both walk through to the little clearing behind the barracks that faces to train tracks. It's well fenced off from the outside world so guards rarely have a reason to come back here. We lean against the back of the building as I look up at the stars while the redhead struggles for words.

"I don't know how I can ever thank you for what you did today." The redhead says in a shaky voice. His green eyes watering up. "I'm ashamed to say I wouldn't have been brave enough to do the same."

I'm about to lecture him on the stupidity of my actions when he pulls something from his pants.

"I thought I could start by bringing you some food. Its my fault your rations where cut in the first place."

I look at the moldy piece of bread that the boy holds in his hand and now it's my eyes that start to get teary. I realize this most have came from the boy's own plate. No one here has ever done something like this for me. I haven't experienced this kind of kindness since Jacob..._Jacob_. I take the piece of bread and chew it down savoring every last bite. I jump up and hug him and he must be surprised because he squeals, but when I pull away he has the biggest smile.

After the food we sit and discuss our lives before the war. His name is Kyle Broflovski. He's roughly around my age and a Jew from a prominent family in Germany. He tells me his father was a famous lawyer, before the war that is, he even held a position in the pre Hitler government. He tells me about his fathers death and his brother Ike. He starts to tear up as he admits the fact that he doesn't know what happened to him and that he's likely dead. He cares a lot about his younger brother and he falls apart at the thought of anything happening to him. Without even really thinking I place my arm around his head and bring it down to rest in my chest just like I used to do with Jacob. His safe place he called it. I can feel Kyle's crying begin to subside and he turns his head so he can look into my eyes without moving from his safe place. I tell him about my past. My father and his disownment of me, my experiments with various guys and finally my story with Jacob. I can see a look of deep sadness in his eyes as I tell him how I watch Jacob murdered. Shot dead in front of me by the same people who are currently making our lives hell.

"You know you are incredibly like him." I say smiling down at him.

We just sit there for the longest time staring into each others eyes. There is a lot of sadness but also a lot of hope and love behind those green eyes and I instinctively lean in for a kiss.

_**Blockestate**_- **High ranking Nazi**


	4. Chapter 4

Love In a Death Camp

Chapter 4

(Kyle Broflovski)

**Authors Note:** I'm sorry its taken me so long to post this chapter. Iv been studying for midterms and been otherwise buys with school and school related activities. I also had to go back and redo the second half. My wonderful beta reader Pachi Nunya caught the fact that the second half wasn't up to the quality that I have been presenting and after reading it a second time I saw it was true and had to rewrite it so it was up to my standards. Anyway I hope you are not to mad at me for stringing me along and enjoy the story.

**Warning: There is an explicit scene at the end of this chapter.**

My eyes flash open as I look around the dark barracks. I start cursing myself. I only wanted to close my eyes and rest for a few minutes until everyone had fallen asleep but it would appear I have fallen asleep for several hours. Making sure the package I'm holding in my pants is secure, I climb down to where he's sleeping.

He looks so peaceful laying there, his chest moving up and down and it almost pains me to shake him awake. He opens his eyes slowly and groggily adjusts to the light. I wait for him to recognize me. Before I can begin talking I feel his hand clamp over my mouth. He shushes me and leads me to the back end of the barracks. I get it, at least I think I do. It must not be safe to talk around some of the others. When he slides a panel in the back of the building out I follow him into the cold night air. I'm freezing but he doesn't seem to be at all uncomfortable. I wonder if his body has actually adjusted to being cold or if he is just playing tough. We sit down as I try to compose what I'm gonna say. I see him looking up at the stars. The sky is beautiful out here. You don't get this many stars in the city. I clear my thought and begin to speak, eyes trained on the ground, too ashamed to look at him.

"I don't really know how I can ever thank you for what you did for me today," I say in a shaky voice, "I'm ashamed to say I wouldn't have been brave enough to do the same."

He looks like he's about to give me a stern talking to when I remember the package I have for him. I stand up and pull a napkin out of my pants.

"I thought I could start by bringing you some food. It's my fault your rations were cut in the first place," I say handing the package over to him.

He stares at the piece of moldy bread for a second as if he doesn't understand. Then I see his tone change from mad to touched. I think he understands if came off my own plate. It's literally the least I can do for him. He eats the bread slowly and savors every last bite. When he's done he practically jumps on top of me as squeezes me so hard I make this high pitched yelp. But I can see he's happy which makes me smile.

After he eats we sit down against the building and look up at the stars, talking about our lives before the war. He tells me about his family. His name is Stan Marsh. His father was a prominent businessman and they where rich. They probably still are from what he tells me. He continues to tell me how his parents found out his interest in other men and how they disowned him. I can't help but think about what monsters they must be. I can't imagine losing my support when I needed it most. He talks about his boyfriend Jacob how they struggled together, barley surviving and I can see by the look in his eyes, that he's still in love with him. I can barley listen as he tells me of watching him die and when he's done I'm the one that's weeping.

As the conversation turns my way, I tell him about my family. My father's prominent position. My experiences with other guys and finally my separation from Ike and my mother. As I talk about Ike I begin to tear up. Stan looks at me with a concerned eye and I admit that I don't know what happened to him and fear that he's dead. Its silent for a second and then Stan's arm takes my head and firmly rests it against his chest. I stay their listening to his heartbeat and I feel strangely secure like nothing can hurt me.

"You're incredibly like him, you know. Jacob I mean," He says.

This makes me smile and I stare up at his brown eyes. There is so much hurt behind those eyes but there is also something new I see beginning to form. Trust? Or maybe love?

Without any warning Stan's lips come down to meet mine. I'm surprised at first but the kiss makes me feel good. Better than I have in almost a year. Just like that Stan separates and stares down at me. The look in his eyes isn't lust, or nerves or even fear, its more of a slight anticipation. As if he was waiting for the score of a football game. Without any hesitation I jump up and kiss him back.

I wake up the next morning on the hard cold bunk and for just a second I'm afraid that maybe it was just a dream. I rush down and I'm outside in 30 second standing next to Stan for morning role. The guards take role quickly and then release us to the mess hall, apparently uninterested in torturing anyone today. We stand in line together and then quickly make it over to our table. We try not to look at each other as not to be obvious but Stan's got this really giddy smile on his face. We take as long as we can before we are ordered to separate for work detail. I feel like crying as I see him walk out the door in the opposite direction.

I've been assigned to work in the ingot factory, a dark and dirty place of heavy manual labor. Despite being told by almost everyone that this is one of the best work details in the camp, I am still nervous. It looks like pretty dangerous work and I'm not the physical type. I'm put on an assembly line. Its repetitive and boring work but well within my capabilities. Throughout the work day my mind wanders over to Stan. I wonder what they have him doing. I asked him last night but he refused to tell me, which means it must be something really horrible. As I am waiting to secretly meet up with him again tonight the day drags on for what feels like an eternity. When it's well past dark outside the whistle finally blows and we are herded off to the mess hall again.

I get my dinner quickly and find Stan who has already taken a seat at the backmost table. He looks glum and tired but when he sees me his face lights up like a Christmas tree. I sit down and his foot immediately wraps around mine. I tell him about my day in the ingot factory. He stares at me with a hungry look in his eyes as if he would take that job in a second. This only makes me more worried about what they have him doing and gives me feelings of guilt for hating the factory. I can't wait for our meeting tonight.

As the days turn into weeks I begin to settle into a routine. I go to work from dawn to well after dusk trying to avoid any attention and I spend my nights huddled with Stan outside the barracks as we talk about our lives before the war, our hopes , dreams and delusions about any sort of future we may have.

By Early December I've dropped about 20 pounds and I'm halfway between normal weight and skin and bones. I can tell it pains Stan every time he sees me go hungry but there is nothing he can do about it. I've already refused to stop taking food from his plate. He's bigger and needs it more than me. It's early December and freezing outside, but when I'm in Stan's arms there is no warmer place on earth.

Were outside on a cold December night huddled in each others arms and looking at the stars. Stan's talking about a childhood experience when he first realized he was attracted to other boys.

"I guess it was always there. I mean I remember small things from when I was little, getting excited about a bath with other boys things like that, but the first time I really noticed it was when I was 12. It was summer and I had gone skinny dipping with some friends like always. Except once we stripped down I couldn't keep my eyes off them. No matter how hard my eyes tried to look the other way. I was so scared of what was happening to me. I tried ignoring it, avoiding situations where I was naked with other boys but it was no use. The want just got worse."

As Stan finishes I can feel my heart breaking. I imagine a younger Stan alone and confused trying desperately to change what he could not. I reach up and wiped the tears that are forming at his eyes.

"I wish you were there. Back then I mean," He says.

I smile back up at him and for the first time I'm aroused at the thought of him wanting me. I'm embarrassed and my face turns red. Stan laughs a little and takes my hand, guiding it over the more intimate parts of his body briefly.

He whispers something erotic in my ear and I can feel my face get hot. I know I'm wearing this embarrassed expression that sheepishly says yes.

He doesn't talk much, but he smiles down at me, sliding off his pants and sitting naked in the snow.

I find myself smiling as I look down at him.

"Wow…" I whisper and now it's his turn to blush.

I want to explore him, touch him all over, but I'm nervous and my hand freezes before I can explore more. He takes my hand gently in his and brings it to himself. This time, I sheepishly touch him all over without guidance. He moans a little, but tries to keep it under control. When I get to his foreskin I stop a little confused. I've never seen one before. He laughs a little bit and explains.

When im finished exploring I get nervous again. Stan must be expecting me to put on a similar display for him but I'm not sure if I want to go that far.

"Only if you want to," He says as if he can read my mind.

He cares so much for me. For the first time in my life, I find that I want to do for another person. As I pull my pants down, I'm a little nervous about how I'll stack up against him.

"You're beautiful!" Stan says, meeting my gaze with a smile.

His hand comes right up to explore me but rapidly stops. He's staring at me, asking for permission I give him a warm, inviting smile.

His hands bring a soft touch despite their size. He explores me all over and I do my best to control myself and not make too much noise.

Without much warning he knocks me down into the snow and starts kissing me all over my body. I can fell his lips on my chest than moving down past my belly button lower and lower. When he takes me into his warm mouth it feels so good I can't help but whimper. He seems to really know what he's doing, using his tongue with expertise and within a minute, I'm on panting on the ground.

Afterwards we lay in each other's arms, pants at our ankles. I try to put the same moves on him, but he pushes me away insisting it's not necessary. I'm rather happy with that arrangement. I'm not too good at giving blowjobs and I usually end up just getting the guy frustrated instead of getting him off. I give Stan a show though, twirling around so he can see every inch of my body.

He seems pleased with this and I'm more than happy to do it for him. I kiss him as he comes out of his euphoria. If I had to be in a concentration camp there is no one I would rather be with than Stan Marsh.


	5. Chapter 5

Love In a Death Camp

Chapter 5

(Stan Marsh)

I wipe sweat from my brow and look around at the huge hole I've been digging. It's so big that they actually brought in two more people to help me. I try to ignore the stack of charred bodies that are directly behind me. I get chills looking at them. There's been a Typhoid epidemic spreading around the camp. More and more people are dropping off every day and even the Nazis can't handle it all. I won't lie, I'm just as scared as everyone else. But I try not to think about it, just wanting to put it out of my mind. I concentrate on digging my holes and try to hold myself over with thoughts of Kyle's soft lips touching mine. However this brings a whole new set of worries and all of the sudden, I'm scared for him. Kyle is the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. A bright beacon of hope in this dark, dark place and the thought of losing him, of watching him slowly slip out of my grasp, is unbearable.

We're behind the barracks looking up at the night sky as Kyle tells me about his day. Three more workers in the factory became ill. It gives me the chills that the disease is so close to him. It seems impossible for him to get sick. He appears almost invincible to me. But I know no one is immune and he can be gone from me, from this world in a moment's notice. I squeeze him into my chest as though it will somehow keep him safe.

"They said they were taking them to the doctor. It was kind of strange usually they just shoot the sick ones or let them die out."

The camp "Doctor" is a horrible man. Kind of the mad scientist type who likes to experiment on people for different reasons. All sorts of horror stories have come out of that place and I would rather die than be brought there. I imagine myself on the inside of the medical building, staff poking and prodding me ripping things from my body as I scream. I hold onto Kyle even tighter.

A week later, I wake up in the morning with a horrible cough and I know it's the beginning of the end. I'm surprisingly at piece with it, almost like an old man ready to die. The only thing I feel bad about is leaving Kyle behind to fend for himself. The poor guy is gonna be so broken...

The other prisoners are starting to avoid me as they make their way out for role but Kyle comes running over not caring about the disease or the torture he'll get for being late. He has a look of pure fear in his eyes. He knows what's about to happen and wants me to give him that look of everything will be alright that this isn't what he thinks it is. But I can't lie to him. Not now it will only make it harder when he has to deal with the inevitable. He breaks down at my feet and starts to cry. With my diminishing strength I grab him and squeeze his head against my chest. His safe place.

I'm able to work for about four more days until one morning I'm so cold and achy that I can't even lift myself off the hard bunk. I'm in a lot of pain. I'm ready for the end and I'm kind of hoping that the guards will just come in and shoot me when they realize I'm missing from morning role. However when they find me they find it quite amusing to just leave me their squirming in pain. I'm pretty sure they've taken bets as to how long I'll last.

I'm in and out of consciousness all day and barley lucid. Although I think at some point, someone snuck in here and put food in my mouth. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking and a hallucination brought on by the fever.

At another point during the night, I wake up head pounding and shivering but a little more lucid than earlier. I role over and bump into something. I use the last of my strength to turn my head and see Kyle lying their curled up in a ball, butt naked. Confused, I run my hand over my own clothes to check if they are still their only to realize I'm wearing two of everything. It takes my fried brain a moment to realize what's going on. He gave up his own clothes in an attempt to keep me warm. Maybe hoping it could somehow save my life. I smile at him thinking about how silly the gesture is. Only it's not because if the situation where reverse I would do the same thing and anything else that could possible keep him alive. No matter how great the risk to myself nor how minimal the chances it could work. A tear escapes my eye as I realize just how much we have come to love each other. It's not until I run my finger down the small of his back that I realize how cold he must be. I use all my remaining strength to pull myself next to his body and snuggle against him. As I assess my situation I realize these could be out last moments together. As I settle up against him he stirs and turns around.

"Stan..." He says groggily turning around.

He snaps to attention when he realizes I'm lucid. He has this look of hope in his eyes like maybe his little cures have worked. But I can already feel my mental state starting to slip and I know he can tell that this may be the last time we are together. He starts crying again softly as he comes over to hug me.

"There is something I want to give you," He says softly in my ear, tears in his voice. What could he possibly give me? All of his possessions are currently on me. His hands slide down my body and start to pull my pants down and I realize what he wants to do and I'm touched by the gesture.

"You know you don't have to do this," I manage to choke out.

"I know but I want to. More than anything I've ever wanted in my life," He says, blushing.

He then takes his hand and rubs it against my face.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before. Like I'd be willing to do anything for them and that's the way I feel about you. If I only have a little time left with you I want to spend it expressing how much I really love you."

I nod my head as he smiles and gives me a kiss. I feel intense warmth in my chest, knowing that he wants our last moments together to be filled with passion and love and I can only hope that those parts of my body are still in working order. I feel the sensation of sudden exposure of my lower extremities that is replaced seconds later by something warm and wet.

I gasp as Kyle's mouth closes around me. The symptoms of my disease disappear and all I can feel is the adrenaline flowing through me and the wonderful warm of Kyle's mouth. I'm panting and at my limit when he stops. I'm look up at him and he's got this sweetly sadistic smile on his face.

"You're my first," He says positioning himself over me.

He spits in his hand, lubing me up as he sits on top of me. I lean my head back as I slip inside of him. It must hurt like hell but he stays completely quiet. The warmth of his behind engulfs me and I feel better than I have in weeks. As he rides me, we smile at each other lovingly. I start to cry. I've never been this emotional about sex before but there is something about the way he is giving himself to me that just touches me to my core. We care about each other more than anything else in the world and nothing can get in the way of that.

He lies next to me naked and sweaty, having given himself completely to me. I cry realizing I won't be able to return the favor. I won't even be able to protect him anymore. But I can tell he's a strong one. He will survive and though it will be difficult he will find love again. As I drift off to sleep, I know this will be the last time I see him.


	6. Chapter 6

Love In a Death Camp

Chapter 6

(Kyle Broflovski)

_AN: After this only one more chapter to go (the epilogue)!_

I sit at my station on the assembly line as tears role down my cheeks. People are giving me strange looks but I don't care. Stan's been sick for about a week now. At first it was just a bad cough but now he can't even get out of bed. I've been sneaking him food and trying to do anything else that can possibly help him but he's only getting worse and deep down I know that's it's only a matter of days before I lose him. I see the foreman coming by and I try to think of Stan telling me to buck up and be strong. But it's no use, I'm just too sad to care. This place will be so different- so much darker once Stan is gone. I wonder if I survive this if I'll ever be able to find someone like him to settle down with and love.

I sit awake in my bunk sniffling. When I'm sure everyone has gone to bed I sneak my way down to his bunk and climb onto the hard wooden surface. I open up the package of bread I've kept hidden from dinner and place it in his mouth. He's not really lucid but he chews anyway an automatic reflex I guess. I look at him and he's shivering like crazy. The fever is making him so cold. A tear escapes my eye and I start crying again softly. I start taking off my own clothes and putting them on him giving him a double layer. I give him every last stitch but it's still not enough. Oh how I wish I had more for him... I cuddle up next to him, naked and freezing, but anything that could possibly help him I'm willing to try. I run my hands against his soft lips as I fall asleep.

I wake up in the middle of the night to a finger stroking my lower back. Remembering where I am I turn around. I snap to attention when I realize that Stan is lucid and staring at me. This great big smile comes to my face thinking that maybe all my sacrifices worked. His smile fades and his head drops and I know in an instant he's not getting better. In fact, I can tell that even this window of consciousness won't last long. This is the last bit of time I'll have with him and the last chance to show him how unconditionally I really love him. I scoot over to his softly and swallow him up in a bear hug. I'm crying as I lean over to his ear and whisper, "There's something I want to give you."

I smile as I look as his confused face, laughing too after a moment. He must think I'm crazy what do I have to give him. With a devilish smile I work my hands down his body and start pulling his double layer pants down.

"Wait!" He says quickly, "You don't have to."

It's amazing even on deaths door he still manages to be a gentleman.

"I know but I want to. More than anything I've ever wanted in my life." I say, my face growing hot. Lifting my hand, I softly rub his face.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before. Like I'd be willing to do anything for them and that's the way I feel about you. If I only have a little time left with you I want to spend it expressing how much I really love you."

Stan nods his head and puts on this big smile and I lean forward and give him a kiss. I don't even care about catching the disease anymore. If death wants to take me too then so be it!

I trail my mouth down Stan's navel kissing all his lower extremities. When I take him in my mouth he gives and slight moan and I smile. I never wanted to do this so strongly for anyone in my life. I can feel some of the tension melt away and the adrenaline must be temporarily blocking the symptoms of the disease because for a few minutes Stan sounds like the old Stan my Stan. When I can feel Stan reaching his breaking point I pull my mouth away from him. He's giving me this pleased look and I stare at him with these devilish eyes.

I scoot myself up so my butt is right over his crotch and I think he gets it. I spit in my hand and bring it down on him lubing him up. Then I bring my hand to my backside. I relax as much as I can and try to open myself up as I sit down on top of him. He's much bigger than me at it hurts like nothing has ever hurt before as he penetrates me. I think about pulling up but then I remember who it's for and I muddle through. He's all the way in and I start quietly bouncing up and down hoping I'm competent enough to at least give him some pleasure. He smiles at me and I smile back saying, "You're my first."

He gives me this heartwarming smile and I go faster.

I lay next to him naked and sweaty as he drifts off to sleep. I'm sad. It's probably the last time I'll ever speak to him. But I drift off, knowing he'll die with the knowledge of just how much I love him.

I wake up the next morning with a very cold Stan next to me. I put my fingers on his neck trying to read a pulse but nothing. I sob for him and kiss him goodbye before taking my clothes back and returning to my own bunk.

Morning role is excruciatingly long as the guards go check on Stan and then a few minutes later come out dragging his dead body. They ask for a volunteer to take Stan's place on the grave digging detail and I realize that was the horrible job he would never talk to me about. Realizing it's the only way I'll get a final goodbye, I volunteer.

It's hard, backbreaking work, digging the mass trenches where they dump hundreds of bodies. Being so far down I manage to dig a shallow private grave for Stan in the trench. I would prefer something a lot more personal but this is the best I can do. I walk over fifty feet where they dumped the massive pile of this morning's dead and manage to dig Stan's body out. I then drag him across the trench and lay him in the shallow grave. I'm wailing as I get down on my knees and say a prayer. I kiss my hand and touch it to his forehead, whispering my final words to him.

"Goodbye Stan."


	7. Epilogue

Love in a Death Camp

Epilogue

AN: Well here it is the Epilogue. I had a lot of fun writing this story and all I can say is I hope you had as much fun reading it. I would love to hear what you thought about the story as a whole. I know some of you are mad at me for killing Stan which is something I struggled with myself and didn't decide to do till the middle of the story. But the way the story was going it didn't seem realistic for me to give it a Happily ever after ending. Anyway enjoy the Epilogue.

I lift my head and look out at the crowd of schoolchildren who have been listing to my story for the past two hours. Everyone has their attention front and center, there is not one Gameboy out and no side conversations are going on. A few teachers in the back and more than a few of the students are crying.

Some are daring enough to ask questions. I tell them about my days in the camp after Stan's death. How I almost gave up on life and ended myself. I speak of our rescue by Allied Forces and my reuniting with my mother and brother. And I tell them about my life since then, my many loves and the special place that Stan has in my heart a place that no one else on this earth can ever fill.

I stand up and leaning on my cane, take a bow. The audience in the school auditorium clap and another teacher takes the mic and thanks me for coming while getting a second round of applause from the audience.

I don't like doing these assemblies. At the age of 80 it's physically and emotionally draining for me to get up onstage and retell the worst experiences of my life. But it's important. They are just starting to teach about what happened to gay people in the concentration camps. While the other persecuted groups where freed and allowed to rebuild their lives many gays where simply rejailed and their stories of their own holocaust experiences shut out. I was lucky enough to escape persecution and now I feel it's my duty to speak about what happened to the pink triangles.

As I get in my car I think about all that has happened since that time. I eventually did settle down with another man. His name is Henry and we love each other very much. We share warm nights in bed and bright holidays together. Everything I could have ever wanted in a relationship. Yet sometimes, I still feel there is something missing. Something that died along with Stan and can never be replaced. When I feel like this I dig out the picture. I got the picture from Stan's mother who I tracked down after the war.

"A simpler time," Was all she said when she gave it to me. It shows Stan around 10 years old splashing around in a lake with a few friends. He's got his arm around another boy and he looks happy. I break it out every once in a while when I need an uplift in mood, when I need to remind myself why it's so important that I keep doing this and the smile of the little boy in the picture gets me every time. Because that little boy had a name and a life, and he loved and was loved and his short time on this earth had a story, a story that deserves to be heard. Sometimes when I look at that picture I imagine it's me their under his arm and his warm smile, and that little spot in my heart that died on that cold night oh so long ago glows again if only for a moment.


End file.
